107

That's a lot of degrees.

There's the moment you touch the door handle of the sub shop and pull your hand away, quickly, before you leave skin on the metal.

There's entering your car after a lovely, leisurely lunch, smiling happily until you are overwhelmed but the super-heated air inside.

There are the sad and drooping native trees, adapted to this sort of thing so there's nothing to worry about, but still letting you know that they are stressed.  TBG keeps checking the palo verde just over the back wall; the branches are sagging, the pods are hanging lifelessly, and he's worried.

I remind him that the leaves on these species curl in upon themselves, minimizing the loss of water by offering a smaller surface for transpiration.  They are not in danger.  They just look awful.

So do most of the humans I pass.  We are entering the as long as your parts are covered you meet our dress code stage of dining.  Minimal is the new black when summer temps hit Tucson.  It leads to some very interesting fashion choices.

The clouds are gathering over the Pusch Ridge this afternoon, portending the onset of the monsoon.  It's a randomly occurring season, not a dated event, although NOAA decided to treat it as something that starts and stops on specific dates, rather than following the rising dew point as history decreed.  Once the rains come, the trees will open up and so will the rest of the world.  

For now, it's finish up outside before 9am and enjoy some indoor pleasures.

It's really hot outside.